Free Whisper by Kathleen Lash

part, made chagrin and desire instantly wash over him.
    “Shit!” he said, feeling a semi-hard problem grow into something more. A step back let him know she wasn’t uncomfortable around him half dressed, but an angry word definitely made her skittish. He slumped forward as he rubbed his eyes. “It’ll be a long day.”
    “Why?”
    “I’ll spend it apologizing. I know it.”
    “Why?” Her voice became higher, more concerned.
    He couldn’t spend all day wondering about it, and decided to ask. If he was wrong, he could start apologizing right then and there, for flashing his lumpy boxers. “Last night. You and I.” Her eyebrows arched, anticipating something more. She didn’t understand he wanted an answer.
    Shit! Uncomfortable himself, he blurted it out. “Did we—I think I remember— shit!”
    Her arms crossed at her stomach and she took a step back.
    “Damn it, did I kiss you!”
    Her gaze dropped, she took another step back and nodded her head. “Yes, sir.” It did happen and he’d have to apologize anyway for the way he asked the question. If this was any indication of the day to come, he should stay in bed and take the pills. He held up his arms and opened his hands.
    “Whisper,” he said in a rational tone. She hesitantly came forward to place her palms against his. “I couldn’t remember and didn’t know how to ask.”
    62

    Whisper

    “Oh.”
    He rubbed the backs of her hands with his thumbs. She had some damned small hands. “The pills make me remember things like I was dreaming.
    Half of what I think I remember never happened.
    Last night—should’ve been a dream.” She tried pulling away. He hadn’t meant the statement to come out like what happened was a mistake! He tried to straighten it out. “I questioned what happened because I’ve never,” his voice trailed off.
    He’d try once more before he’d swallow the pills and lay back down.
    “Baby?” Her pale blue eyes with the ring of gray gazed at him. “Did you let me touch you?” She nodded. Good, some progress. “And kiss you?”
    “Yes.”
    “Did you,” he said before swallowing, and then swallowing again. It was hard to think about because he was hard, period. “Never mind. I know what happened. My imagination isn’t that good.”
    “Did I do something wrong?”
    He brought her close, wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested the side of his face against her stomach. Her muscles were taught but at least she didn’t try to get away.
    “I thought I dreamt your hands and mouth on me because I’ve never felt anything so good. I’ve never come that hard or quick, and God, you didn’t back off—nothing’s been that extreme.” Her fingers in his hair allowed him to relax.
    “You’re not angry with me?”
    “No. And you won’t have to ask me that question again. I’ll try my damndest to think before I speak.”
    “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just toughen up a little. You’ve had a bad time lately. You’re entitled to some anger.”
    “I’ll keep it in check. I refuse to spend the whole damn day apologizing.” He released her. “Think you 63

    Kathleen Lash

    can find my jeans from yesterday?” She walked to the chair, picked up a pair of jeans and shook them open. “We brought in your duffle bag. I did the laundry and found a few pair of jeans that didn’t look new, even had some holes. I hope they weren’t favorites. I cut them to fit your cast so you’d have some changes of clothes. If I screwed up, I’ll replace them.” The words tumbled so softly and fast he had a hard time following with some of her enunciations.
    Once his brain caught up with her, he laughed.
    “That’s perfect. Thank you. Throw them here and I’ll get dressed.” She walked over, crouched down and began pushing denim up his legs. “You don’t have to.” “You can do it yourself tomorrow.” She acted like it was no big deal helping him dress. She’d done the same the night before undressing him. It took some